


Hold Me Tight (or don't)

by Lixon



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Dreams and Nightmares, Friendship, Insomnia, Minor Original Character(s), Potential Nyxnoct, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lixon/pseuds/Lixon
Summary: The nightmares start and don’t stop.Noctis doesn’t think it’s a problem until it suddenly becomes one.





	Hold Me Tight (or don't)

The first night it happened was unbelievably ordinary.

 

Noctis had finished a long day of balancing his academic life with his princely duties. From sitting through hours of grueling final exams before the start of the summer to being grilled on political policies and foreign relationships with Ignis to the absolute beat down that Gladio gave him sparring once Noctis managed to drag himself to the training arena. In short, it was an absolutely hellish day that only arose during this time of the year when all of his responsibilities managed to coincide on one day into a maelstrom of stress and anxiety.

 

When Noctis unlocked the door to his apartment, the only thought on his mind was trudging through his disaster of a living room so he could collapse onto his heavenly soft bed. Unfortunately, his weary limbs had other plans for him, and Noctis was barely able to stumble his way to the living room couch before his legs gave out and he faceplanted into the worn leather cushions. The couch, he thought to himself dazedly, would do more than enough. And once he woke up, he would move himself to his bedroom. With that thought in his head, he drifted off into sleep.

 

But of course, Noctis’ life wasn’t that simple. 

 

He awoke to an empty throne room. His surroundings devoid of its typical fixtures: his father, Clarus, the guards, and the usual aids and assistants scurrying about. It was eerie, the way in which the normally bustling room was still. But upon the throne sat something that glimmered brightly, an object with such a shine that it caught Noctis’ eyes and beckoned him closer. As he walked, his footsteps echoed in his ears. Thuds that pounded so rhythmically that Noctis wondered how his gait, usually slightly uneven due to his back injury, could be so in sync. Moreover, Noctis could feel the beating of his heart beneath his chest; fast and strong, it felt like a bird was fluttering within his ribcage with outstretched wings colliding with his bones.

 

As he neared the seat of the throne, Noctis was overcome with a wave of fear. 

 

And anger.

 

Emotions so blackened and poisoned that he doubled over and began to retch. His throat was burning and as he covered his mouth with a hand to stifle the sound, his fingers suddenly felt wet. With trepidation dawning upon him, Noctis moved his hand away only to stare at the streaks of red and black staining his pale skin. Another cough rattled through his chest and his hand was coated in red¬¬–blood, his frantic brain provided for him. It’s blood–and some mysteriously viscous black material that oozed across his skin.

 

His lungs were burning from the strain of the coughs, and they only ached more as the frequency of the coughs increased. It felt like Noctis was dying. He couldn’t breathe, and the agony was unbearable. All he could do was kneel and clasp his hand to his mouth as blood and sludge slipped out. His head was reeling by the time he fell to the floor with his chest convulsing. He was suffocating, he thought as he began to lose consciousness. And before he slipped away, Noctis swore he could hear footsteps stopping beside him and a voice muttering, “Oh my.”

 

After that night, the nightmares became frequent visitors. With nightmares occurring anywhere from one to three times a week, Noctis was beginning to feel worn down from falling asleep and then waking up in cold sweat every time the nightmare happened. Luckily for him, the school year was over for the summer, and the only things occupying Noctis’ schedule were his lessons on royal matters with Ignis, his combat training with Gladio, and his outings with Prompto around the city. As a direct result of the onslaught of bad dreams, Noctis became rather adept at concealing his exhaustion. Between sneaking in powernaps throughout the day and using a small amount of makeup, he was successful in hiding the bruises under his eyes and the other indications of his tiredness that managed to crop up.

 

But this night was different, Noctis just couldn’t stomach the thought of laying on his bed and going to sleep. Sleep was where terror loomed and death waited. His dreams were plagued with empty throne rooms, cold glimmers, red and black splatters, and a malicious voice that whispered both encouragements and threats; an entity that made promises to Noctis that made his spine stiffen and his fingers shake. No. He couldn’t–wouldn’t–sleep tonight. His day hadn’t been too strenuous. He only spent a couple of hours studying under Ignis’ careful tutorship and then some more time practicing his evasion techniques with Gladio. If anything, Noctis had more than enough energy saved up to stay up for the night. And as much as he would like to watch movies or play video games in the darkness of his apartment, he knew that the possibility of accidentally falling asleep was too great. Thus, the only solution to this would be to leave his apartment. As for where he would go, Noctis had no idea. Wandering the city at night did have an alluring appeal though. His identity would be hidden beneath the shadows of the towering buildings, and Noctis knew that people preferred to mind their own business rather than to concern themselves with strangers. 

 

With his mind made up, Noctis slipped on a passably civilian attire. Rather than don the usual royal black clothing he wore, he made sure to add a little bit more color to his outfit. A maroon hoodie, dark blue jeans, and black boots. As an afterthought, Noctis slid a cap over his head to cover his unruly hair. It wouldn’t really do much to conceal him considering that it was already going to be dark outside, but Noctis figured that the extra protection wouldn’t hurt. Now, his next order of business centered on figuring out the best way to leave his apartment. He could use the front door, sure, but Noctis knew that his apartment was well guarded in its entrance as per the stipulation his father gave when Noctis accepted living outside of the Citadel. However, given his experience with sneaking out of his apartment with Prompto late at night, Noctis knew that he could easily scale the window of his apartment and warp to the apartment complex a street away. It may have been a little unnecessary to go to such a degree, sure, but Noctis was desperate to escape the confines of his room. 

 

Without much fanfare, Noctis retrieved a throwing knife from his bedroom and climbed carefully out of his window. He held on to the stone tightly and pulled the window shut before throwing the knife over to the other building, warping a moment later and smoothly tucking into a roll. He stood up and picked up the knife easily, stashing it away in his hoodie’s pocket as he strolled to the building’s fire escape and climbed down. 

 

Now, standing in the mouth of an alleyway facing his apartment, Noctis turned on his heel and walked the other way. He’s followed this path enough times to know that the alleyway fed into one of the main streets of the city. Last time he had snuck out with Prompto, they decided to go left on the street. This time, Noctis figured it would be more fun to go right and explore a section of the city he hadn’t gotten to see yet. As he walked, his eyes roved across the brightly glowing signs of businesses open late; bars, restaurants, grocery stores. Most of the specialty stores were already closed with the exception of weapon shops. Civilians were still out and about as well, even though it was slowly inching closer and closer to midnight. People were strolling together, laughing, holding hands, munching on street food as they chatted pleasantly amongst each other with smiles. A part of Noctis felt a sting of envy. He knew that his status as the prince isolated him from his people by the nature of his upbringing; they regarded him distantly but warmly. The wounded but kind boy grown into a quiet but steadfast young man. The people of Insomnia neither hated nor loved Noctis. He was simply there. The son of the king and an elusive figure ever since the injury. He knew that he would never truly be capable of being considered in the same capacity as the civilians of Insomnia. Insomnians would only ever see him as a quiet prince while other people, those from Altissa, Galahd, and the other neighboring lands, viewed him with mixed opinions. Entitled. Hidden away. Weak. Elite. The list went on, and Noctis wanted to change that. He wanted to show those people that he was different from the problematic nobility that viewed immigrants in Insomnia as pests or lost causes. But until he was given more power and sway in the kingdom’s policies, he knew he could do little to prove himself.

 

Lost in thought, Noctis was shaken out of his musings by the sound of raucous laughter coming from a little side street branching away from the main street. Interest piqued, Noctis went down it without any hesitation. The street was very small but sparsely populated, which Noctis was thankful for. Had it been more crowded, he probably wouldn’t have been capable of maneuvering around the carts and business blooming out of the sides of the buildings like flowers sprouting from cracks in concrete. The aroma of foreign spices tickled his nose and made his mouth water. Traditional Insomnian dishes were mild in flavor with little creative applied in favor of a more simplistic style. However, with the influx of people immigrating into Insomnia due to advances from the Empire, the majority of the traditional Insomnian foods were beginning to evolve with that of the new cultures settling within the bowels of the city. Personally, although Noctis hated eating vegetables, he appreciated trying out new dishes, which made his decision to wander over to a densely packed tavern at the end of the street. 

 

The tavern itself was not glamorous, but Noctis could see its charm through the glass windows immediately. For lighting, the tavern had a dim but warm golden hue, and the main bar space was a long counter with barstools scattered around it. It had a few actual tables spaced about with two booths crammed into the corner of the tavern. Practically every seat was full, but Noctis felt drawn to the building. It made him feel warmer inside, a wonderful feeling that drove away from the uneasiness that forced him out of his apartment to begin with. He glanced at the name of the bar, Galahdian Sunrise, and went in unceremoniously. He managed to spot an open seat at the far corner of the bar, next to a group of rowdy men and women clinking their glasses together and teasing each other loudly. 

 

A menu was placed in front of him by the barkeep quietly as she continued to wipe down glasses. Noctis flipped through it idly, unsure of what to order and what some of the words on the menu meant. It was clearly written in Galahdian and as Noctis struggled to discern what was what on the menu, the bartender in front of him leaned over with a smile.

 

“Hello,” she greeted in amusement, “it seems like you’re new here. Can I help you with anything?”

 

Noctis' cheeks flushed in embarrassment, but he nodded. “Yeah. I can’t really read the menu…”

 

The woman nodded. “I’m sorry about that. Truthfully, we don’t get many non-Galahdians in this bar, so the menus are written in Galahdian. But I can help you out. What are you in the mood for?”

 

“Um. Whatever you recommend, honestly.” Noctis answered. “As long as there isn’t a lot of vegetables.”

 

The bartender raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Oh? Not a fan of vegetables, huh? And how old are you, exactly? You seem a little young to be perusing around bars on your own this late at night.”

 

“Old enough.” Noctis replied easily as he took in the bartender’s appearance. She had long brown hair tied back into intricate braids, bright green eyes, and tanned skin that spoke of hours in the sun. Her face was worn, but the laugh lines told Noctis that the bartender was someone who smiled a lot, and the kindness in her gaze and the playfulness in her voice amplified that observation. “So, what do you think I should have?”

 

“Hmm…” She murmured. “You didn’t want a lot of vegetables, which is kind of a big part of Galahdian cuisine, but I’ve got some ideas. Do you like spicy foods? Or do you prefer milder foods?”

 

“Spicy, definitely.” Noctis replied with his chin cupped in the palm of his hand.

 

“Alright then. I’ve got the perfect thing in mind for you. The name’s Alma. Don’t worry about paying for your meal. It’s on me.” The bartender, Alma, winked.

 

“Are you sure?” Noctis asked. “I can pay you-“

 

Alma shock her head with a smile. “No thanks, kid. It’s on the house. I’ll be back with your order once it’s ready.”

 

With that, Alma breezed down the bar to a backroom, presumably where the kitchen was located. As Noctis watched her go, he noticed the man sitting on the barstool next to him shift his weight and huff out a laugh.

 

“Wow, never thought I would witness someone asking to pay for something when they can get it free.” The stranger chuckled.

 

Noctis felt a wash of annoyance and he tucked his cap over his eyes a little further before turning to face his seat neighbor. “Paying for my meal is only fair.” He said. “Besides, she’s really nice. I’d feel bad if I didn’t do something for her.”

 

“Then leave Alma a good tip. That woman works here practically every night. And speaking of every night, you’re not a regular here. What brings you to the Galahdian Sunrise?”

 

“Does something have to bring a guy to a nice bar?” Noctis replied.

 

“No,” the man shrugged before taking a swig of his drink, “but everyone has their reasons. I was just curious about yours.”

 

“Well, in that case, sleep. Or lack thereof.” Noctis said honestly. “Was wandering the city before I heard some noise down here and came to investigate.”

 

“So, it’s sleep problems, huh? Me too.” The man mused as he held one of his hands out to shake. “I’m Nyx Ulric. It’s nice to meet you, though maybe it would’ve been better in different circumstances.”

 

Noctis eyed the hand for a moment before taking it. “I’m Noct. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“That’s a strange name.” Nyx commented as he withdrew his hand and continued to drink. “But not the strangest I’ve heard.”

 

“Yeah, it’s pretty common in Insomnia.” Noctis said mildly. “And trust me, I’ve heard some strange names.”

 

“Oh really?” Nyx perked up as they met eyes. “Do share.”

 

“Well…”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. I'm new to FFXV (and FF in general). Thought I'd try my hand at contributing! I'm not the best writer nor the most motivated, so updates may be sporadic or even non-existent. 
> 
> By nature of me being a dumbass, please consider this story as a little AU due to potential inaccuracies (I haven't beaten FFXV yet and I try my best to pay attention while playing, afjhsldfjkhdsaf). Also, please excuse me if the characters aren't written all too well. (^-^;;)


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